I Am Duty and Honor
by Milia Timmain
Summary: Alistair receives Lady Aeducan's journal, offering him insight into her decisions. Spoilers abound! First real fanfic, rated M because of possibilities in the future chapters. All belongs to BioWare/EA
1. The Funeral

The funeral had been almost unbearable. He could feel his voice cracking as he spoke to the people gathered in Redcliffe, but he steeled himself finding strength in honoring her. She had sacrificed herself to save them all, to end the greatest of threats.

"I thought...I thought we would be together forever."

The pain in his voice, the pain he had tried to withhold in front of the crowds, washed over them. It was palpable, and it showed their new king as a man, the same as them all.

Gorim approached the King after the ceremony was done, with a small package in his hands. He bowed deeply, and offered it to Alistair.

"I was given the duty of returning her things to Orzammar, I found this along with a letter addressed to you, your majesty."

He took the package, asking Gorim to stay, hoping to talk with the dwarf he knew his lady once cared for. He refused him, watery tears shining in his eyes as he walked away. Alistair did not look at the package again until he was back in Denerim, in his office, without anyone demanding his attention. A moment of peace. Inside he found the ragged journal he had watched her write in as they traveled, and a letter with his name written on the front.

_My Beloved Alistair,_

_I write this as you sleep, the soft sounds of your breathing behind me. I can not sleep, for all I can do is think about tomorrow. I know that part of you will never forgive me for what I have to do, but you will make a fine king to your people. They need you, so tomorrow will be the first time since we met that I will go into battle without you beside me. You have been my shield brother, my second, and my heart. I go to this doom knowing it is my fate, my only regret that you will not be there in my final moments. I give this journal to you, in hopes that you will gain a better understanding of me, of why it has to be this way. Live well, my love, rule with justice and temperance, and care for your people as you cared for me. May the ancestors bless you._

_Yours Always,_

_Neera_

He put the letter down, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, hoping to stem the tide of sorrow filling him. Instead the sobs came, finally alone, finally able to grieve for what he had lost. It took some time for him to compose himself, before finally turning back to the journal, and turning to the first page.


	2. Exile

I am Lady Aeducan.

My name may be stricken from the Memories, but I shall always remember my name, my house, my family, my people. I grew up wanting to be something different, to be an honorable noble, a dutiful daughter, and a doting sister. I wanted the honor of my people to shine through me, to show that honor does not only have to be at face value. I shied from the dirty intrigues of the court, and threw myself into my duty as my father's second. I showed compassion to our people, venturing into the commons to speak with them. They were flesh and blood and stone just as I, and it was my duty to protect them.

Now I am Exile.

Betrayed by a brother I loved and protected. Cast out by a father I only ever wanted to make proud. I never accused, I never blamed, I only proclaimed my innocence, sure that my honor and my deeds would show the right of things. I was stripped of everything, even my dignity as they cast me into the Deep Roads. My heart wanted to know vengeance, but even as I was accused of murdering my eldest brother, my hands shook at the thought of taking the life of my youngest. Vengeance did not take hold, but justice did. I fought my way through the perils of the tunnels, the sword and shield my father had given me by way of Harrowmont clashing against the darkspawn.

Now I sit in a camp, with four human men. When I look up to the open sky I become dizzy, and my stomach turns. I will never get used to this, I miss the comfort of the stone. My eyes spend most days downcast, to prevent the nausea. Duncan is an honorable man. He has given me a chance at redeeming my name, a chance at honor lost, and a duty great. I will not fail him, nor will I fail the people of this land. They are now my people as well, and I will defend, protect, and serve. We are three days from Ostagar, and soon we shall route a Blight.

"In war, victory. In peace, vigilance. In death, sacrifice."

I will hold this creed to my heart.

I will soon be Grey Warden Neera.


	3. Betrayal

It is all a test of the ancestors; they are testing my strength and my honor. I am destined to meet betrayal and loss head on from this day forward it seems. Ostagar was lost. I would have been lost if not for the old woman and her daughter.

It seems like a strange haze of memory. The ritual, the death, and the duty. Even now my skin crawls knowing what is in my blood. We did our duty, we lit the beacon, and the King and his forces were abandoned anyway. Is there truly no honor left in this world? This threat is greater than politics, how could they not see all of this? All of the Grey Wardens are gone now, save two. Alistair and I.

He is letting the sorrow eat at his heart, no longer making quips and jokes as he did when I met him not two days ago. I doubted his abilities at first, sure from his demeanor that he was just a clown. I learned soon enough I was wrong. When we fought the darkspawn in the tower, his shield and blade skill was fully realized, his eyes shone with purpose, he carved through to do his duty, and I fought beside him as a faithful second would. My shield protecting his back, my sword cutting those through who tried to flank.

Now he seems broken. Was I like that in the prison cell? Did the hurt of betrayal and loss cover my being in such a visible way?

Before my watch for the night began, I sat beside of him and let him talk about Duncan. He needed it, otherwise he would have been useless in the days ahead. We were still Grey Wardens, we had a duty to fulfill, a Blight to stop. When he asked if I had ever lost anyone, all I could say was yes. I could see the expectation in his eyes for me to tell him more. I did not.

Morrigan I am not so sure of. She and her mother saved us, but I find it hard to trust magic. If it were not for the debt owed, I would have left her at the hut. Her tongue is venomous, and I find myself growing irritated at her. We shall see how long she stays with us. She is not a Warden, she does not share our duty, she is free to go when she wishes.

Tomorrow, we will arrive in Lothering.


	4. Command

They bicker like children, and I have to treat them as such. The moment we stepped in Lothering they were at each others throats. I do not blame Alistair, but there was truth in some of her words, as biting as they were.

We are on the road to Redcliffe, Alistair confident that the Arl there will assist us in our endeavor against the coming darkness. I trust his judgment, even if he does not. Somehow our positions have been reversed. I now take the lead in all things, deciding who comes with us, the direction of our steps, the control of our resources and funds. It is a familiar burden, and I shoulder it with confidence.

He is now my second, the one guarding my back with his shield as I take on the front line. Part of me longs for his confidence to emerge again, that leadership and duty to take hold of him again as it did that night in the Tower of Ishal. Perhaps that man died there, with his Grey Warden brothers. He talks about them as one would talk of lost family. I sit and I listen as we eat each night. I tell myself he needs this to heal. Morrigan just stares at us from across camp, almost seething at what she sees as his stupidity. She does not understand loss, let her seethe.

My trust of her is still small. I send the strangely intelligent mabari to watch her when I sleep. He has been a faithful companion thus far, and asked nothing of me, save bits of bone. I still have not named him, I am terrible at such things.

Our camp is expanding. Two more joined us in Lothering, as well as a merchant who makes me long to go home to Orzammar.

Leliana is a sweet girl, adept and skilled with a bow as well as her voice. She strums her harp in the evenings and sings soft songs. If I had not seen her in a fight, I would have left her behind in Lothering. Her words about the Maker's vision did not sway me. Why would the surfacer god care about my path? She has a fierce belief, and I will say no words to strip it from her.

Sten, the stoic warrior, I could not leave in that cage to die. His crimes might have been grave, but I see a flicker in his eyes of regret and loss. He is now on this journey with us, and he will find his redemption in our company or die trying. He is a man of few words, and I do not press for more. His skill with a sword is amazing. We spar in the evenings, and when his huge sword falls on my shield it sends a numbing shock up my arm. I feel that he will make me a stronger warrior.

They all follow of their own volition. They stand by me and fight with me not because they have to, but because they want to. My journey is their journey, their hope is my hope. I shall not fail them.


	5. Nightfall

We are waiting for nightfall.

When we arrived we found Redcliffe in a state of panic. People dead or dying, afraid for their lives. This threat does not come from darkspawn, but some evil that pours from the castle at night. Part of me, knowing the greater threat out there wanted to leave them to their fate. I could not. Duty has kept me here, and I have helped them prepare. I have bolstered confidence, I have given orders, I have set up defenses. I lead these people into a battle for their lives tonight. How easy my words come when they express their doubt. Simple words, but I can see in their eyes their belief in them. I have given them hope.

It should not have been me. It should have been him.

As we approached, he stopped me, pulling me away from our companions to talk to me. I was confused by him, but then he started babbling. I was dumbstruck at first. Such a secret to keep. He was noble born. In my home, he would have instantly been raised as a sword for his house. Here he was a bastard, and treated as nothing. The reason the King had sent him with me made sense now. He may have been a Grey Warden, but besides the King he was the only blood of his line left. Now with the King dead, he was heir, even if he believed otherwise. It seems my fellow Grey Warden has another duty to fulfill once this Blight is done, whether he wants it or not. He should be the one rallying his people, leading them out of this despair.

I admit, I was hurt that he had not trusted me with it. He cursed his birthright, but I had already seen his nobility, had I not? I should have known.

Sten and Morrigan are aggravated over my decision to help these people. I tried to explain how it would help our cause, but I could still see the look of disapproval in their eyes. I will deal with it later. For now, we have to be ready to save this place. Leliana is walking amongst the soldiers training, singing songs to further bolster their courage. The smith is repairing armor. Murdock is barking orders to the militia. Dwyn is assisting in their training. I worry about this, they are untrained, ill prepared. Will we make it through the night?

I see the light dimming in the sky, looking up isn't as disorienting as it once was. I find some comfort in it, as well as a longing for the stone again. Why must everything pull me in two different directions?


	6. Weak

By the stone, who does he think he is! Does he not think I have feelings? Does he not think that the decisions I make affect me too? He is such a child, how I ever thought he had a noble bone in...

He followed me into the woods to apologize, but before he could even open his mouth I started in on him. I was screaming, all my cool confidence shattered right there before him. I told him that I had to weigh the needs of the many against the few. Isolde sacrificed herself to save her son. We came to that decision, and how dare he question it after the fact. Was I sad at the loss of another life? Yes. Do I wish we had another option? Yes. I could not leave the people of Redcliffe to fend off those monsters night after night, while we tried to get help from the mages. I didn't stop there. I screamed at him that he was selfish, that he was self centered, and that he didn't see his own promise. I screamed and screamed about how our duty was above everything, about doing what MUST be done.

I don't remember when I stopped screaming. I heard words burbling from my mouth as the hot tears streamed down my face. I told him about my brothers, about my family, about my exile, and about Gorim. I felt like a weak child without discipline. He listened to me, face wrought with worry. He was in my shoes now. He remained quiet as I talked about it all, all the pain I had shored up, all the hurt.

How I wish I were more like the stone. Solid, unyielding, and strong. It seems I am just a woman after all.

We are going to Denerim, to find Brother Genetivi. It might be a blind hope that he will have something for us in regards to the Urn, but we must try. We need the Arl.

Alistair has asked if we can go to meet his sister while there. At first I wanted to say no, but I yielded. There is someone I want to seek out in Denerim as well. Those last moments together, arms entwined through the iron bars of my prison, cloud my vision. He said he was going to Denerim.

Ancestor's forgive me, I am a weak woman.


	7. Wounded

Denerim was not what I expected.

It was a bustling city, and I had expected that. We easily found Brother Genetivi's house, sadly lacking the man. His assistant, Weylon, has put us on the path to Lake Calenhad. At least we can kill two birds with one stone while there, perhaps find the Brother and get the mages to uphold the treaty. Things went smoothly as far as business goes. I let most of my companions wander the market district. Leliana had captured Morrigan, trying to get her to express an interest in fancy shoes. Sten disappeared into a weapons shop.

Alistair, Dog, and I wandered around looking for the address he had for his sister. When we got there, I had to practically drag him inside the small hovel. He was excited and nervous to find blood of his blood. I could not blame him.

She was vile. She was rude. I watched as her words set barbs in his heart, his face falling with disappointment with each passing moment. I tried to interject, to assuage her onslaught, only to have her barbs slung at me. They bounced off me, my heart to her was cold. Believe my surprise when Alistair's voice raised in anger to her over the way she spoke to me. I looked at him a bit shocked, but finally took his arm to lead him outside. I told him there was nothing for him there, and he agreed readily.

I still wonder if I said the right thing once we got outside. It seemed to change something about him. I told him everyone was out for themselves. Was that true?

We wandered the market more, looking for signs of my people. That is when the sound of a familiar voice washed over me. Something in me cracked as I turned the corner, and it took every ounce of strength in my body to not run headstrong and throw myself in his arms. I was still a lady, perhaps somewhat weak willed, but still a lady. Alistair pushed me forward, I was thankful for the smile he gave me.

The ancestor's truly hate me. When our eyes met, I thought my heart would explode from my chest. That rumbling voice, surprised, saying my name. I wanted to cry, but crying was a silly thing to do in the middle of a market. Here stood the last connection of the life I once led, the man I had stolen chaste kisses from in shadowed hallways, whose hand I held under the dinner table, whose arms held me in the darkest of nights, protecting me, and never demanding more from me. My glory would have been his glory, we dreamed of the day that my father would have seen him worthy to be my husband.

But that was another life, before the betrayal, before the Blight. A life of dreams unfulfilled. Here stood the stone of my heart, but he could no longer be my second. He was married, expecting child. I felt a twist in my gut. I barely heard him as he told me of how he got to Denerim, of how he had carried a gift for me from my father. I stumbled over words. I asked him when I would get to meet the lucky woman. I wonder if he heard the shaking in my voice. I wanted to ask why he didn't wait for me, when his faith in me had died. Instead I took the shield, Aeducan's Shield, from him and thanked him for his service to my family and to me. I strapped the shield to my back, and walked away.

The heart is a funny thing. Wounds to it hurt worse than any cut or bruise.


	8. Rose

I have watch him as we travel towards Lake Calenhad. I have seen the look in his eyes. He looks at me like Gorim used to. Admiration and infatuation, it's all I see when I look at him. It scares me. Are all my seconds destined to look at me in that way.

My hair is growing longer now. I used to keep it short, to keep it from getting tangled in my helm. Now I let Leliana comb it as I write, braiding it in different places, as Morrigan cooks for all of us tonight. I trust her more now that we have been in more battles together. She has had plenty of opportunity to betray us. I think I am beginning to understand her. Perhaps not agree with her ways, but she does not seem like the cold bitter thing she was when she began traveling with us.

Sten and Alistair are training across the camp, I can hear the sword ringing across shield. I watched for a few minutes, looking for weaknesses in form and style. I find none. Both are warriors at the peak of talent. Why am I so worried for them.

Alistair has caught my eye, seems they are done with their spar, and he is waving me over insistently.

* * *

A rose. He gave me a rose. He told me I was beautiful. We're running around Ferelden, gathering allies to defeat a Blight, and he gives me a rose. We fight everyday, bandits, darkspawn, wild animals, our shields defending each other, protecting each other. And he gives me a rose. He fumbled over his words, awkward and unsure, and I found it...endearing.

I'm hiding in my tent now. Leliana wanted to resume playing with my hair, but I refused. He went off one way blushing, and I ran into my tent like a scared child.

This cannot happen. We cannot do this. My heart is still sick from what happened with Gorim. But it is so familiar, and something in me wants to fall into the lie that is infatuation. Do we not deserve a bit of happiness in all this darkness? Duty comes first, at least that is what I must keep telling myself.


	9. Dreams

I lied to them.

We all talked about our experiences in the Fade, of the dreams we had been trapped in, and I lied to them.

I told them I was at Weisshaupt with Duncan, that the Blight was defeated, the darkspawn eradicated. That was not my dream.

In my dream, I was in a room, a babe upon my knee. Golden haired and dark eyed, its small fingers reaching up to tangle themselves in my now long hair. Trian and Bhelen were both there, laughing over something I did not hear. Father even visited, cooing over his grandchild, before leaving. The bubbly bundle in my lap laughed, playing, and I tickled its tummy, fingers dancing over its skin. I was enthralled by the sound of it, the fragility of its life, and the fierce, intense love I felt for it. I would have been trapped in that dream forever if it had remained just so. Trian took his leave, he had business with the assembly, and Bhelen, looking younger than I remembered him sat at my side. It reminded me of how I had held him as a babe. I was still so small, but he bubbled and giggled and I had been entranced even then. I had loved my brothers, I wonder if they had ever loved me.

Then my dream husband entered the room. At first it was Gorim, he was dressed in the finest polished armor I had ever seen, House Aeducan's crest emblazoned on his shield. As he approached me and the babe, he shifted, grew taller, changed. Instead of Gorim, before me was Alistair. Instead of the stone room I knew in the royal palace of Orzammar, the room was now brightly lit by the sun, the stonework of the large homes in Denerim. Alistair had a delicate circle of gold around his brow, his armor the color of the sun, and he spun holding the babe up high. "My son." he said with pride. I remember running screaming out of the door, begging the visions of a future that could not be to leave me.

The dream still rocks me to the core. Is that what I truly desire above everything? My family whole, a child, and a man who loves me? All I had ever dreamed of before was my duty and my honor, to be the pride of my people. Who am I now? All of Ferelden needs me, the humans, the elves, and my own people, the dwarves. I have no right to dream of such fancies. The troubles of the world weigh on my shoulders, and I must do what no one else will.

We have a new companion, an elder mage named Wynne. Her skills in the healing arts are a welcome blessing. I wonder if she knows a way to soothe the pain in my chest.


	10. Kiss

On our way back to Denerim to have a word with "Weylon" we ran into an assassination attempt.

It wasn't a difficult battle, a little tougher than most of the bandits we had encountered on the road. I left the leader of the attempt alive, to question. Seems Loghain knows we still live.

My companions think I am insane. I watched as Alistair blustered and huffed, as Wynne admonished with that withering look, as I held my hand out to the assassin and allowed him to join us. He can be useful, this elf, and there was a look in his eyes that seemed to say "kill me". What better punishment, than to let him live.

I was waiting for it at camp, another outburst from Alistair, questioning my judgment again. Everyone was around the fire, waiting for whatever strange stew Sten had thrown together to be done. He walked right up and I braced myself for it. Instead he looked down at me with a pained expression, then walked away again. This went on for what seemed like an eternity, until I had finally had enough. I grabbed his arm, pulled him down to eye level, unable to hide my irritation with him, and growled at him to say what was on his mind.

And that's when he kissed me. Lips pressed to mine, chaste and nervous, the tip of a gauntlet covered finger touching my chin. I was too stunned to move, so familiar was this situation, and when he finally removed his lips from mine his face looked like a freshly boiled nug. I thought about slapping him, but then I felt the eyes of everyone in camp on us.

He practically ran to his tent. Morrigan was giving me a look of absolute disgust, her skin even looked green. Maybe she was doing that with magic to enhance her feelings on the issue. Leliana had a grin so wide on her face, that I thought it was going to split in half an fall of. Wynne wouldn't catch my eye, Sten grunted and started serving the stew, and our new friend, Zevran was looking at me like I was dinner.

This is ridiculous, we are warriors, soldiers. We have direction and purpose, there is no time for these games. This will just spiral us away from our duty.

Though, I have to admit, it was a nice kiss.


	11. Aveline

Wynne passed out after battle today. I'm worried for her, perhaps it was unwise to bring the elder woman along. She diverted my questions saying that she just needed rest. Perhaps I have been marching us all too hard. We do not know how much longer the Arl will live, and that has been driving me to keep us moving at a hard pace.

She moved our conversation to Alistair and I, attempting to impart a wisdom I already knew. I cannot let it go further, things cannot end well with what we have to do. I am afraid to put a stop to it. I am a afraid he will be the same as he was after Ostagar, the hope in his eyes dimmed. Is it really all of that? Or am I afraid of what breaking that tie would do to myself?

I cooked tonight, some root vegetables and old bacon we picked up from a merchant on the road. Something other than stew. I haven't spoken to him much since the kiss, save for orders. I had Leliana sing for us tonight a very specific song. She had told me the tale of Aveline a few nights prior, and so I requested that tale be woven into a song for all of us to hear.

The woman chevalier, who won honor above all the men who fought her, and died. There was no love greater than her honor. I feel some kinship to Aveline, and part of me wants to strive to follow that example.

I ate beside of him as usual, as Leliana's voice settled over us. Zevran watched the bard, like a cat watching its prey. I wonder how long until he pounces. When Leliana sang of how Aveline's throat was slit, I glanced up at Alistair. His food was untouched and he was staring at me, with this contemplative look. I wonder what he was thinking during that time that our eyes locked, what my face must have shown. Whatever passed between us, I'm unfamiliar with, it was like warm water washing over the stone, and I didn't take my hand away from his when his fingers intertwined with mine.


	12. Urn

It has been some time since writing here. We haven't done much stopping and resting recently. We found the Urn.

It was a trial of the soul to be sure. I'm still a bit shaken from what happened. The beliefs that shaped our path were not mine, but I could not help but feel that we stepped foot into sacred halls. I was given a vision of my brother, Trian.

At first I was angry, already the spirit at the door had probed too deep into me, asking me the question he did. Yet, here was a vision of my dead brother, almost mocking me when he started speaking. Bhelen betrayed us both, and Trian sounded almost like he admired him. Were both of my brothers so mired in underhanded policies. I was a fool to want to believe in something nobler from my blood. Though, the way our conversation ended, perhaps there is. He said he was proud that I had not faltered. I wonder if that is truth though? I feel like every step I take is on thin glass, that at any moment it will crack through I will fall into an endless void.

I must be steady and careful to avoid this. One wrong decision and it is not just my life hanging by a thread. Others depend on me, and it should be easy, it should come naturally. Yet I cannot help but worry about all of them, about how my decisions can impact them now. Up until this point it has been about doing what must be done. Can I continue on that line?

We rest in the shadow of the mountain, a days walk from Haven. The path to Redcliffe will hopefully be clear and without problem. We must get the ashes to the Arl, and hope that whatever power I felt while in that temple will rise him from his illness.

We have fought fanatics, we have fought against ourselves, and even against dragons now. I should feel stronger, more resolute in the path before me. The doubt is overwhelming.

No one has really spoken since we made our way down the mountain. It is like all of us are lost in some silent reverie, reflecting on what has happened.

If it were not for his hand in mine in those few spare moments before watches were decided, I'm not sure that even he would seem real to me right now.


	13. Acceptance

I should be sleeping, but I sit here wide awake. We've all been given rooms here at Redcliffe, and it feels strange to have an actual bed to sleep in, instead of being out in camp.

Even though it has a strange familiarity, the stone walls surrounding me, I find myself too weary for rest. The Arl's condition has been stable since we left, but unchanging. Tomorrow morning they will attempt to use the ashes to cure him. Will he admonish me for letting his wife go to her death? Will our travels to save him be for nothing when he finds out that I'm responsible?

Things are starting to go back to normal among my companions. As much as I adore her, I am tiring of Leliana talking about the Urn. I understand it meant a lot to her to see it, to be there when we found it, but I don't share her feelings on it. I retired to my room early, only to have Alistair follow me. Which I'm sure is the number one topic of gossip now. At the camp, if we wanted a moment alone, all we had to do was walk away from the perimeter, but here I even feel as if the stone has ears and eyes.

He tells me he thinks we should slow down some if the Arl is cured. Maybe not force ourselves so hard. He says I am burning myself out. I wanted to snap at him, but its true. We have been moving so fast, so quickly, the only time I have to think about what I have done, or decided, is in the few moments of rest at camp each night. The few moments I have to write in this journal.

I don't know what I would do without him. I would gladly call all my companions dear friends, even the elf at this point, but none of them support me when I am worn and tired like he does. My heart can no longer turn him away, even if what we are will be nothing once all this is over. I think we both need each other, like two stone pillars that hold an equal amount of burden.

He... he told me his feelings for me went beyond infatuation. I let him kiss me, this time it was not so chaste. It was more passionate, more insistent, and more urgent than any kiss I have ever had. It took all the will in me to push him away, to tell him to go to bed, and that we would talk more tomorrow. I could have easily let things go further, even as tired as I am, but this is not the right time.

The sight of him, standing in my doorway, as I pushed him out still brings a smile to my lips. His face flushed, tinged with his desire to push his way back in and the desire to do as I wished. I do not deserve him.


	14. Cold

The ashes worked, and the Arl has risen from his sickness.

I stood beside his Teagan, as he told him of what had happened since he fell ill. I watched as the sorrow came to his eyes over the King, over what was lost at Ostagar, and over the death of his wife. It remained on the the edge of his features as I watched him steel himself, resolving what must be done. I felt the coldness in his voice when he offered me thanks for what I had done. I could only nod in stony silence as he requested that we meet again in the main hall later in the day.

Everyone but me seemed relieved at his recovery. All I could do was pace the main hall, waiting, wondering what comes next. All my companions, save Alistair left me to it. Even he did not approach me today, just watching me from the corner of the hall as my steps echoed through the otherwise silent room. I do not know what the look on my face must have been, but it must have not been good to keep everyone at bay.

Time stretched on, until finally Eamon and Teagan appeared in the main hall. The fate of Jowan was decided, turning him over to the Circle. Though his voice spoke to me of his confidence in my judgment, Eamon's eyes were cold to me. Then he brought forth the topic I knew would come sooner or later. He intended to put Alistair forth as Ferelden's next King. Teagan looked at me with a strangeness I could not understand as Eamon put this decision, this undeniable plan on my shoulders. I heard Alistair's protests beside me, but all I could do was keep my eyes locked with the Arl. They studied me, cold and piercing. He knew that I would agree with him, because it was my duty to agree with him.

I felt hollow as I assented to the plan. I had only ever followed the path that was laid out before me. I knew what my duty was to my people, and now I had a similar duty to my adopted people. Though he may fight against it, our only option to get rid of Loghain was to put Alistair forward as King.

We stay one more night here at Redcliffe Castle, the shield Eamon gave me in return for my service here stands propped up next to my family's shield. The Landsmeet will not be called until we have finished gathering troops from the treaties. Two left. Elves and dwarves. We will set our path towards the Brecilian Forest tomorrow. We will save my people for last, if only because I am so afraid of what is waiting for me in Orzammar.

No one has come to speak with me since the meeting ended. Once things were decided, I barked orders to prepare for the mornings departure, leaving everyone in the main hall as I retired back here to my rooms. Wynne's quiet wisdom, Leliana's banter, Morrigan's defiance, or Zevran's calm flirtations would be a relief to this internal miasma. I'd even welcome the brunt of Alistair's anger. Anything to break the silence of this lonely room.


	15. Sink

Today I was dropped in a pond.

I am not sure who came up with the idea really, but I suspect it had something to do with the elf and the giggling red head sitting on the grass watching me sputter and flounder.

Dwarves. Do. Not. Swim.

The sodding bastard was the one who did it though. Picked me up as I was oiling my armor, threw me over his shoulder, and the next thing I knew everyone was laughing as I tried to gain my feet under me. Baths I am used to, low running streams, even a shallow pool near a river, something I can step in and out of.

They apparently had no idea, that coming from the stone as we do, dwarves sink. I was fine for a moment, my feet had found purchase on a flat rock under the water, but then as I struggled to keep my head above the water it shifted. The water covered me, and I was sinking into the dark murk. I was spared from the agonizing belief I was going to drown.

His hand pulled me back up from under the water, helping me find a more shallow part of the pond. I had my fist balled up ready to punch him square in the nose, until I saw the look he had. He was red from neck to forehead, and quickly turned babbling apologies as Leliana and Zevran choked on their laughter.

That was when I realized how cold my chest was. My shirt had come undone, exposing much more of myself that I would have liked. I can't quite remember much of what happened next, somehow I made it back to camp, and was scrambling through my pack for dry clothing.

I don't know what I was expecting when I came out of my tent in my new dry clothing but it was not Wynne tending to an elf, whose nose was spurting blood. Nor did I expect to see Alistair on his knees, as if he had been waiting there the whole time, and instantly start blurting apologies again.

I ignored him and went over to Wynne and Zevran, to find out exactly what happened. Wynne's look made me flinch, but Zevran was just laughing through the bloody nose. I had hit him after he made a rather lewd comment about my chest. He took it all in stride, saying that the pain was worth it.

Eventually Alistair gave up on the begging, and Leliana untangled my hair. She told me as she re-braided it, that they only wanted to lighten my mood. That I didn't have to be so serious all the time. That I hadn't earned all of them because of my unflinching desire to fulfill my duty. She reminded me that even though we have had a very rough go of it, that we still had moments of happiness. She is right, she is so very right, I've shouldered all this burden recently with a vehement anger seething right at the edge of everything I do. I've forgotten that I have a duty to them as their friend as well as their leader.

I think for now I will continue to remind myself of this as I go see if humans sink as well as dwarves. Alistair is looking quite moody.


	16. Guilt

He diverts any conversation that I try to have with him about the Landsmeet.

For a while it was just completely random things thrown at me whenever I opened my mouth with what he calls the "too serious look" on my face. I have heard about 30 different types of cheese and how each one is a delight of the senses. I have heard about pillow fights. Paragons help me, but everything out of his mouth makes me laugh. I want to talk to him about it, to get his perspective past the whole I-never-asked-to-be-king attitude he presented at Redcliffe.

We're camped just inside the Brecilian Forest, following almost imperceptible trails of what we hope are the Dalish. I feel as if the trees are watching us, the leaves seem to rustle when there is no breeze, limbs bending in disapproval at our presence. I do not like this place. I will be happy when we find the elves.

Leliana kept me by her tent most of the night, not allowing me my usual place by Alistair at dinner, and talking incessantly about what the ancestor's only know. When she gets excited her accent makes it hard for me to understand her words. So I was completely taken by surprise by her question. I think I almost put the fire out with the water that came spurting from my mouth. She actually asked if I had taken him to bed yet. She wanted to know all the sordid details. Of course, I had none to give her, and was just barely saved from more of her queries by him.

I could see the sneer on his face as he looked back at Leliana, at the same time leading me to the other side of the camp. We talked for a while. More like he talked and I laughed. In the middle of it all I remembered I had forgotten something I had meant to do. I left him sitting there while I went to my pack, pulling out a small necklace I had found in Redcliffe Castle before we had even went after the Urn.

I am not sure why I held onto it for so long. Perhaps I was waiting on a better moment, or perhaps the long hard drive to save the Arl's life had completely put it out of my mind until now. I wasn't even sure If it was the same amulet he had mentioned before, but it had obviously been repaired after long ago.

When I presented it to him, the look on his face almost broke my heart. Before I knew what was happening know he was pressing me to him in such an embrace that I could not breathe. He was mumbling thank yous, and I could hear the wavering in his voice as his emotions threatened to break over him. I don't know how long we sat like that. Even with my inability to breathe properly, I did not want to break from his embrace. It just felt _right_. It was the gagging noises from Morrigan that finally made us separate.

I feel so guilty for this feeling. Guilty because there is so much suffering around us, so much at stake, and here I am happy. Happy because if none of it had happened, I would never have known him. To think I could have went my entire life without the sound of his laugh, his shield at my back, or the beauty of his eyes is almost incomprehensible. He has healed something in me, and I feel so utterly irresponsible for enjoying it.


	17. Stories

Nothing is ever easy. We've found one of the Dalish clans, but they have been attacked by werewolves. Under any other circumstances I would be completely baffled and daunted by this. Since my exile I have seen things, done things, and experienced things beyond the scope of what I was taught. Thus, I am not surprised.

We have agreed to assist Zathrian in obtaining Witherfang's heart, though I cannot help but feel that he is hiding something. The elves have graciously allowed us to share their camp this evening, before we venture further into the forest tomorrow.

Some of the elves seem agitated by our presence, but some have been very kind so far. I was not sure what to expect, having so little contact with elves besides Zev. He seems lost in thought while being here, as if he is absorbing the surroundings instead of trying to interact with the people.

I think I shocked my little party when I involved myself in Cammen's dilemma. It was obvious the two elves loved one another, but Gheyna could not see that her lack of confidence and support in Cammen was what held him back. By the stone. Perhaps I'm wrong about that, but what's done is done.

Sarel, the storyteller, told us the tale of the how the Dalish came to be, as well as spinning a few other stories while we ate our evening meal. Leliana was offered the chance to sing stories of her own. Before we retired for the evening, Sarel asked me to share a legend of my people to round out the evening. I told them of Astyth the Grey and the Silent Sisters. Another tale of duty and sacrifice and honor, and one of a Paragon to boot. When I finished, the silence stretched awkwardly. Everyone stared at me silently, and I wondered for a moment if my telling had been that terrible. Sarel's voice was less scathing, more genuine, when he thanked me for the sharing.

Now I'm sitting here at my tent, and I can feel elven eyes on me as I write. I wonder if it was their eyes I had felt when we first ventured into these woods. They look at me like I'm a spirit or a boulder out of place in a field of grass. As enjoyable as the evening has been, I am ready to leave this camp, ready to get done what needs to be done.

Once we are done here, we only have one more place to go. Home.

* * *

_A/N: Thanks so much to Freckles04 for being my beta reader. You rock!_


	18. Shield

The elves are now our allies.

Again there was more sacrifice and loss at my decisions. The werewolves were not the beasts we were led to believe. I am weary, so very weary, of needless death. In the end**,** Zathrian perished, the werewolves became men, and we have our allies.

I watched as a man so wrapped up in vengeance refused to offer mercy to those innocent of wrongdoing. Whether or not these men were the ancestors of the original perpetrators or just innocent men caught up in the curse did not matter. How was he any better than those who had attacked his children? It wasn't until he had my sword point at his neck that he understood the error of what he had done. He ended the curse he had created in the end, giving release to the Spirit of the Forest, as his own fled his body. The humans, no longer afflicted, left to find a new path for themselves.

I wonder if such an emotion will overtake me when we return to Orzammar. Will I be blinded by the need to avenge my dishonor? I still tremble at the thought of taking Bhelen's life. I still ache from his betrayal, still ponder if actions I had taken led him to that path. He is still my baby brother, he is still my blood, and he is the last of our official royal line. I am an exile because of him. I have been tainted by the blood of our oldest enemies so that I may hunt them. I have lost love, the place among my people, my family. I cannot allow this conflict of thought to cloud my judgment, or the role as a leader that I have now. I have a new place, a place of honor and duty, to defend the world from the Blight. I have found the strangest friends, people that follow me almost unquestioningly, and they have become my new family.

And I have him. He shares the tainted blood with me. He shoulders my burdens as if they were his own. His touch is gentle, his eyes are my refuge. He is my shield brother that always guards my back. Who could have ever believed a human could find his way into the stone of a dwarf's heart?

We start on the road to Orzammar tomorrow. I have been dreading it up until this point. With his shield at my back, I feel that I can face what awaitsme there.


End file.
